Home
by AnonymouslyAddicted
Summary: Home is where the heart is. Contains SMUT.


**A/N** : This is the second story for the last episode. Still have at least 2 more in my head I want to write! So this has some smut, but it's not explicit and not the main point of this story. But that's still a heads up just in case you don't like that. Thank you so much for the reviews on my last story! I would appreciate your comments on this one as well!

* * *

 **Home**

"You calm the storms,

And you give me rest.

You hold me in your hands,

You won't let me fall.

You steal my heart,

And you take my breath away.

Would you take me in

Take me deeper now." - Lifehouse

The ride home was quiet. Sitting in the back seat, each of the kids was busy listening to music on their phones. Still holding hands, Elizabeth and Henry sat in silence, exchanging looks every once in a while. They were both deep in thoughts, deep in emotions of the past few days. As he noticed her eyes closing, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him, letting her rest her head on his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head and she smiled, adjusting in the comfort of his arms. She closed her eyes again and allowed the warmth of his body to lull her to sleep. He watched her sleeping, the sun brightening her face, making her golden locks shine. He caressed her arm gently and smiled at her sight. How was he ever so lucky to have her in his life was beyond his knowledge.

As the SUVs rolled into their street he peppered kisses on her forehead. She moved slightly, snuggling closer to him and sighing. "Babe, we're home" he whispered softly, "wake up".

Flickering her eyes, she looked at him and he smiled at her, his fingers caressing her cheeks gently. "Hi" she whispered.

"Hi yourself" he said, softly brushing her lips with his.

As the car stopped, he helped her out. She shivered as the cold air hit her, still rubbing the sleep off. "Get inside. I'll get the bags" he said, smiling at her.

They unpacked to the sounds of their kids arguing downstairs, rolling their eyes at the comments they threw at each other, laughing when Stevie finally put an end to it and decided on pizza for everyone. They didn't speak; he felt as if everything was said, and words couldn't offer any comfort now. But he glanced at her, and he wondered if she was quiet because she knew he didn't need words, or because she was lost in a long lost pain, one that she carried since she was a child.

As he reached to the bottom of his suitcase, he found a framed picture he forgot about long ago. It portrayed him and his father, back when he was 7. His father was holding him in his hands, smiling proudly. He was wearing the football team uniforms, a medal around his neck, laughing. He smiled at the memory of this picture, it was one of the rare moments he shared with his father.

"Hey, where did you find this?" he asked, knowing she was the one to put it there in the first place.

Smiling, she walked over to him, resting her hands on his chest. "When I went to get the suit for your father, I saw it on the nightstand near his bed. I thought you'd want it".

Looking at the picture again, he moved his fingers over the features of his father. "I was 7 when this was taken by my mom. We just won the championship, we beat the previous year's champion, and I scored the last goal, winning us the game. My mom always hated how cheap my father was, and when I asked to join the team, and he realized he will have to pay for it, he refused. My mom sat him down and said 'Pat, sometimes you spend money on things that might not seem essentials at the time, but they are exactly that. Let the kid have fun'. When he realized she was putting her foot down on this one, he finally agreed but decided that if he was paying, he's going to attend to every game, making sure that I'm playing, you know – making sure he was getting his money's worth. What he would never tell you was that he was actually there because he loved watching me play, and when we won that game, when _I_ won us that game, he was over the moon. He kept telling everyone 'that's my son' and he was the proudest I've ever seen him. Later that night I heard him admitting to my mom that it was worth every penny. She reminded him of that when I told them I'm going to UVA to get a degree, and he once again found himself paying, but this time he didn't argue".

She smiled at him softly, cherishing the memory with him. It was so rare that he had good memories from his father. She always tried to make him be more patient with his father, reminding him of those unlucky enough to even have these sorts of memories. She knew his father was hard to handle, but he was, after all, his father.

"Do you mind if I put it here?" he asked, pointing to the dresser in their bedroom, one that held a picture of their children.

"I think it'd be perfect there" she answered, smiling.

As he placed the picture, he pulled her to his embrace, wrapping his arm around her body, kissing her hair. "Thank you" he whispered and she nodded.

He looked down at her as he felt her body tremble, finding her eyes welled with tears, some had already rolled down her cheeks. He moved to stand in front of her, looking into her eyes, questioning what had made her cry. She wiped her tears and tried to offer a smile, but he didn't buy it. So instead, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to him, kissing him and wrapping her hands around his body, pulling him closer to her. He realized soon enough that just like him, she wasn't ready for words, not yet. She needed his closeness, just like he did.

As his tongue entered her mouth, his hands began to wander under her sweater, tracing her skin with his fingers, making her shiver at his touch. She moaned softly into his mouth, and the sound was almost too much for him. He broke their kiss, pushing her just enough to meet her eyes. Not saying a word, he reassured her that he understood, that he _knew_. He peeled the vest off of her and as his hands caught the end of her sweater, she lifted her arms, allowing him to take it off. As she stood there with her bra, she felt the coldness of the room taking over her body, and before she could wrap her arms around herself, he pulled her to his embrace, rubbing her arms with his hands. Moving her hands to the hem of his sweater, he left her body and she removed the garment, running her fingers over the warm skin of his chest.

Taking her hand in his, he led her to the bed, his eyes never leaving hers. His hands worked the button of her pants before she sank onto the mattress, pushing it down her legs as she lied down. He removed her panties and her bra, meeting her lips in between, lingering closer to her, looking into her eyes. When he felt her pressing her lower body to him, he stood, taking off his pants and boxers, before climbing on top of her, meeting her lips again, entwining their fingers together on the mattress near her head.

He ran his hand in her curls, then down her neck until he reached her breast, cupping it, squeezing gently. She moaned again when his thumb grazed her nipple, letting out a breath and closing her eyes. He smiled, kissing her cheek. His hand left her breast and moved down her stomach and to her thighs. Catching his hand, she stilled his movement.

"Just you" she breathed and he nodded.

Finding her entrance, he pushed his hardness into her, slowly stretching her muscles, feeling her closing around him as her legs wrapped around his waist and pulled him deeper. He met her lips to a tender kiss, his tongue stroking hers, moving in her mouth. He moved against her and she met him thrust by thrust, running her hand in his hair. She tilted her head when he placed kisses on her neck and flickered her eyes shut when he twisted her nipples between his fingers.

"Henry" she called, her hands wrapping around his chest, pulling him closer as he fell completely on top of her. "Please" she cried, pressing her lower body to his, lifting her chin and begging for his lips to kiss hers.

He moved faster, feeling the heat building inside of him. Sweat began to trickle down his body, mixing with hers. She was panting, her chest heaving against his. Her eyes shut tight, her lips parted, silent cries leaving her mouth. They moved in sync until they reached their climax together, calling each other's name before kissing each other hungrily, desperately. He collapsed on top of her, unable to move as he was trying to catch his breath.

"I needed that more than you know. Thank you" he whispered in her ear and kissed her cheek. Rolling off of her, he lied on his back and pulled her to lie in his embrace. She rested her head on his chest and he pulled the covers on top of them, feeling her cold body against his. They lied still, his fingers tracing her hand. He thought she had fallen asleep but her tears rolled down his chest and he shivered at the feeling of her body shaking just slightly as she cried quietly. Wrapping his arms tightly around her, he held her while she cried, allowing her to fall apart. She was there for him to lean on her since he received the news about his father, and he could do nothing more than to hold her as she broke down.

When she sighed with so much sorrow, he lifted her chin to him, meeting her eyes. "Tell me" he said, his thumb wiping the tear that rolled down her cheek.

"I miss them" she said and he closed his eyes as he felt the pain in his heart. She rarely talked about her parents, rarely thought about them. Except for the anniversaries of their deaths, she refused to let this take over her. They died so long ago that she always said she was so used to living without them by now. But he knew better. He knew she was hurting, and he knew that every time they were with his family, the hole in her heart grew bigger as she realized she never got to share moments like this with her parents. And every year he tried to make sure she was comfortable enough to cry, to fall apart on the day of their death, as it was the only time she really allowed herself to feel. The past few days, he realized, were too much for her, and for the first time ever, there was really nothing to fill the part that was missing for so long.

As the words fell out of her mouth she began to sob and he pulled her to him. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and cried as he held her, as he rubbed her arm.

"It's okay, it's okay" he whispered in her ear. If only he had words to comfort her. Losing both of his parents, it was the first time since he met her that he knew what she was feeling.

Nothing he could say or do would bring them back, and it was the part he hated the most. Feeling so helpless as she was hurting so much.

Taking a deep breath, she was able to stop crying, wiping away her tears. "I'm such a mess" she said, chuckling, "I'm sorry".

"Babe..."

"You lost your father and I'm crying like a baby" she whispered, turning her look away from him.

Turning her face to him again, he smiled softly. "We lean on each other, remember?"

Swallowing back the lump in her throat she smiled and nodded. "And I think this calls for some alcohol and ice cream" he grinned.

He kissed her lips softly and went downstairs to get some scotch and ice cream, finding their kids deep into a movie, eating pizza. He smiled. In spite of how often they fought, he knew that no matter what they'll stick with each other and it was all he ever wanted.

Returning to their bedroom he handed her the glass. "To Patrick McCord" she said.

"And to James and Annabel Adams" he said, clicking his glass with her.

As she took a spoonful of ice cream, some reached the tip of her nose. He smirked. What a perfect excuse to kiss her. He licked the ice cream from her nose and moved to kiss her lips. "One day you'll have to tell me the thing you have with ice cream. And popcorn".

She smiled and nodded. "One day" she said.


End file.
